


I'll Be Haunting You

by graytheglowinggay



Series: X-Men: My Self-Indulgent Gay Nonsense [6]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Age of X-Man (Marvel Comics), Alternate Canon, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Casual Sex, Ficlet, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Memory Loss, Memory Related, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, One Night Stands, Open Marriage, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Rare Pairings, Sexual Fantasy, Telepathy, Time Loop, Title from a They Might Be Giants Song, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23789680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graytheglowinggay/pseuds/graytheglowinggay
Summary: "I would not wish the hopeless pain of starving to death for things I don't understand upon my worst enemy." -Northstar, Age of X-Man: X-Tremists #4Northstar knows that intimacy violations are crimes of the highest caliber. Department X punishes those who commit intimacy violations. And yet, no one is without sin.
Relationships: Jean-Paul Beaubier & Elizabeth Braddock, Jean-Paul Beaubier/Bobby Drake, Jean-Paul Beaubier/Julio Richter, Jean-Paul Beaubier/Kyle Jinadu
Series: X-Men: My Self-Indulgent Gay Nonsense [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693336
Kudos: 10





	I'll Be Haunting You

**Author's Note:**

> In the "real world" outside of Age of X-Man, Kyle and Jean-Paul have an open marriage, and though they are primarily involved with Bobby, they have casual relationships with other X-Men too, including Rictor (and Shatterstar).

Northstar was no stranger to his unwanted thoughts. It was something he had always known, and something he had always worked his hardest to control. At least once a day, thoughts of intimacy violations would cross his mind, and he’d tamper them down. Often they were vague, images of nude bodies that were not his own, powerful physical desires that would nearly overwhelm him. They were common, he had learned in his Department X training, and did not constitute an intimacy violation unless they grew more specific or were acted upon.

Some of them were specific, very specific. They involved the same man, one Jean-Paul neither knew nor recognized, committing countless violations together. Well, he was not certain they were violations. Though he had been given comprehensive training on the various intimacy violations between a man and a woman, he had never been given the same when it came to actions between two men. But they felt the same. More shocking than the violations, though, was what he and the strange man wore in these images; antiquated pieces of jewelry, worn on the third finger of the left hand. Wedding rings. A symbol of marriage.

Just imagining himself as married made Jean-Paul sick to his stomach. It was the grossest violation of mutant principles. To not just publically show one’s intimacy, but to openly prioritize one being over all others was unbelievably selfish. What if that one being did something wrong? It set one up for traitorous behavior was what it did.

It was a test. It had to be. A test to make sure he was suited for Department X. If he wasn’t disgusted, they might kick him out.

But it became more than just that nameless married man.

When Jean-Paul first had thoughts of an intimacy violation with Bobby, he wrote it off immediately. It had been a long day where the two of them had been working together nearly non-stop, it was no surprise he was still thinking about him. But it wasn’t the only thought of Bobby, it was merely the first. Bobby soon became as much of a fixture in his most shameful thoughts as the married man was. Violations with one, or the other, or both. He had trouble looking Bobby in the eye because he knew just how those lips felt on his skin, exactly what was beneath his uniform, exactly what those hands could do to him. 

It seemed like Bobby had opened the floodgates. There was now a rotating cast of men that featured in his thoughts. Most remained nameless, but there was one whose name he found. Julio Richter. 

It wasn’t that suspicious or hard for a clerk of Department X to search for a name and address. He told his colleagues that he had a possible lead, and he was going to investigate it alone. No one questioned it. It was one of the many perks of being independent, even while on a team. Julio Richter lived in a make-shift apartment above a closed movie theatre. Jean-Paul had no idea why, there was more than enough housing available for every mutant to have a good place to live, but it was the least of his questions at that moment. He rang the buzzer that had been installed, and a man answered. He was casually dressed, which made Northstar immediately feel self-conscious of his Department X uniform. His neutral expression quickly turned shocked.

_“I swear, I don’t have any contraband. I got rid of it.”_

It was him, all right. Jean-Paul knew that voice, had heard it loud and soft, had heard so many names carried by its cadence of certainty.

_“No, I’m not here on any official business.”_

_“Then why are you here?”_

_“I remember you.”_

Julio Richter’s eyes widened.

_“Come inside.”_

He went inside.

_“What do you remember?”_

_“I remember us together in a way we shouldn’t be.”_

Julio Richter ran his hands through his hair and let out his breath slowly through pursed lips.

_“You said you weren’t gonna come back.”_

_“I can assure you I’ve never seen you before in my life.”_

_“You actually went through with it?”_

_“Went through with what?”_

_“Whatever. Seems like it didn’t work.”_

Julio Rictor turned to face away from him and removed his shirt.

_“This is what you came for, isn’t it?”_

Jean-Paul closed his eyes for a moment.

_“Yes.”_

His body knew the motions. How two men fit themselves together, which places to kiss to cause a gasp, how to become a vessel for another man’s pleasure, which spots to hit to make them both unravel. They moved together on that tiny mattress in the office apartment above the closed theatre. Around them were rolls of film in boxes with names scribbled on the sides. _Gone With the Wind_. _Groundhog Day_. _Casablanca_. _Brokeback Mountain._ All names Jean-Paul recognized from the catalog of most dangerous old texts. He had discovered what could be a major Department X case, depending on whether the movies were being consumed privately or being distributed. A hand on his thigh, though, and it was all forgotten.

There was no more daylight filtering through the shuttered blinds when they were finished. They were both hot and sweaty and sticky, and Jean-Paul made a mental note to shower thoroughly before returning to work.

_“There should have been more of us.”_

_“You say that every time.”_

Jean-Paul stood up.

_“I should go.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“It was nice.”_

He couldn’t escape it. Now that he had given into his shameful urges, his thoughts returned to intimacy even more often. During his flight to work, he found himself flying past that theatre, Julio Richter’s theatre, and it scared him. He wanted to feel it again, wanted to experience that pleasure he never knew he needed. But he couldn’t. He was a clerk of Department X. It was his job to punish intimacy. He couldn’t do his job if he was a hypocrite.

_“Psylocke, I must speak with you. Privately.”_

_“What is it, Northstar?”_

_“I’m requesting a short-term mind wipe.”_

_“We haven’t brought anyone into custody recently.”_

_“Not for a perp. For myself. See for yourself.”_

Psylocke put her hands just away from Northstar’s temples, nearly touching.

_“For Hope’s sake, Jean-Paul. How long has this been going on?”_

_“Months. I thought I could handle it on my own. But recently, as you can see, I gave in. I need you to get rid of it.”_

_“I mean, I’ll try, but there’s no guarantee it’ll work.”_

_“I don’t care. I can’t live with this.”_

_“Alright.”_

Purple psionic energy surrounded Psylocke’s hand, and Jean-Paul thought he saw a hint of pity flicker across her face, but it was gone before he could be sure.

_“Please don’t report me.”_

_“You’re the best Department X’s got. We couldn’t lose you.”_

Psylocke drew her arm back in preparation for the mind wipe.

_“Northstar?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Can I tell you something?”_

_“Certainly.”_

_“This isn’t the first time you’ve asked this of me.”_

_“I didn’t think so.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally write angst, let alone angst without any kind of comfort or happy ending, but this just came to me. I've read the issue that the quote in the summary is from too many times to count, and there's a weird sort of underlying tension between Northstar and Rictor in it that I just had to resolve in some way. Anyway, this is another one of my very self-indulgent X-Men fics that will get like 5 reads but I had fun with it and that's what matters.


End file.
